


Running From Shadows

by cris7iano



Category: Football RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-06 08:49:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3128471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cris7iano/pseuds/cris7iano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This explores Lukas and Bastian's relationship after their defeat in the 2010 World Cup. Essentially, it's about running away, taking chances, and dealing with disappointing moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When he steps off the pitch and into the tunnel, his knees try not to buckle under the pressure of the world collapsing on top of him. Germany’s trip to South Africa has ended in vain and it reminds him of 2006. It’s the same story and he’s grown tired of reading it. Die Nationalmannschaft have failed to live up to their potential. Again.   
_“There’s the next one. We’ll win the next one,”_ says his tiny captain, trying to rally the twenty something people in the small change room.   
Lukas thinks of all the chances he wasted and the passes he missed and a lump forms in his throat. He downs half a bottle of orange gatorade but it doesn’t help. He holds his head in his head and cries.  
***  
He goes back to Germany and pretends the World Cup didn’t happen. Pretends that it’s not eating at him, haunting him in his sleep. His dreams quickly turn into nightmares. The World Cup trophy enters his dreams and he chases it, jumping through hurdles to touch it, but it always evades him. Nobody except Bastian notices that his skin has become paler and his laugh has become rehearsed. He’s a shell of his former self. Lukas knows that Bastian notices a change in him so he tries to avoid him because he really doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want someone telling him _“there’s always next time”_ because he’s heard it all before and he _knows_ but he may not have another opportunity like this again.   
Lukas decides he’s had enough of Germany and looks for a way out. He’s running and he knows it but he doesn’t care. He can’t look at Philipp or Basti without wanting to scream, without wanting to punch a wall so hard his hand goes through it.   
He attends his last training session at Bayern and sits on the outskirts of the circle the team made as they were stretching. Nobody except his agent and van Gaal know so he hopes to just slip through unnoticed. Except Bastian notices.  
After training, when the stadium lights have come on and the other players have left the field, Bastian approaches him. Lukas digs the tips of his shoes into the grass as he braces himself for the impending lecture. 

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Bastian asks as he takes a seat right next to him.

Lukas lets Bastian rest his knee on his.   
The smile on Lukas’ face slowly disappears and he looks at the small holes his shoes have made in the grass. Bastian stares intently at him but Lukas refuses to shift his gaze from the grass.  
Bastian begins to pluck grass from the field with his left hand and throw it in the air like confetti. It lands weightlessly in Lukas’ hair and he imagines that it’s World Cup confetti. Bile rises in his throat.

“When were you planning on telling me you’re leaving?”

The question catches Lukas off guard and he almost forgets how to speak. His heartbeat accelerates and he’s sure that he’s either going to vomit or pass out. Maybe both. 

“I didn’t know what to say,” he replies, his mouth dry.

“How about, _“Hey Basti, you probably won’t see me at training or around Munich in general after next week because I’ve signed for another team in England”_ ” Bastian says with an edge to his voice.   
Lukas looks up at Bastian again, really looks at him for the first time since their match against Spain. He notices that Bastian’s pale skin and eye bags resemble his own. It hurt to look at him, to see him like this. It made him angrier than it did when he looked at himself. It made him want to tackle Casillas to the ground and pry that trophy from his hands. He secretly wishes he could take all of Bastian’s hurt and pain and carry it instead.   
He tries to swallow the lump in his throat with all the spit that’s left in his mouth before shifting on the grass so their legs are no longer touching. 

“I didn’t want it to be like this.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Bastian replies, voice quiet and defeated, “Stay,” he continues, and it sounds more like a prayer than anything else. 

“I can’t. It’s already been done.” 

“I hope everything you’re running from here follows you everywhere you go. I hope leaving Germany, the team, _me_ is the worst decision you’ve ever made.” 

The words are like a blunt axe continually leaving bruises but never tearing the skin. For the first time in his life, Lukas wants to be as far away from Bastian as possible. He wants to buy him a one-way ticket to Antarctica or strap him to a rocket and send him to the moon, but that’s not far enough. He wants to get out of Munich as fast as possible. 

“You wouldn’t understand, Schweinsteiger.” 

“Schweinsteiger?”

“That’s your name."

“I know but you never call me Schweinsteiger.”

Lukas looks around the empty stadium and the distance between them. 

“Things have changed.”

Memories of 2006 hit Bastian like a tidal wave and he’s almost drowning in nostalgia. Their goals. Their celebrations. It almost seems like a lifetime ago and now he’s the one with a lump in his throat. _“Schweinsteiger”_ he thinks to himself. Lukas hasn’t called him that since they were teenagers and it sounded so foreign hearing it come from Lukas’ mouth that he almost didn’t recognise his own name. He’s no longer fondly regarded as Basti or Schweini, he’s now Schweinsteiger, which has no warmth or affection. It’s clinical and serious. Bastian snaps out of his trance and finds that Lukas’ mouth is still moving but he can’t catch what he’s saying. 

Lukas stands up and brushes the grass off the back of his shorts. Bastian remains seated.

“Take care of yourself,” Lukas says, extending his hand to him. 

Bastian meets Lukas’ hand with his own and smiles so wide he feels like his face is going to split in to.

“I will,” he says before Lukas walks off toward the showers. 

Bastian stays seated, thinking about all the things he said but didn’t and it reminds him so much of Germany and South Africa that he vomits where Lukas was sitting. He lays down and presses his hands to his face. 

North London is welcoming. It’s not quite Köln and it’s not quite Munich but it feels familiar. Per immediately takes him to all the German restaurants and cafes that North London has to offer and within a few weeks, Lukas feels like he’s lived in North London all his life - he knows where they sell the best bread and which pubs serve German beer and which cafes have all night karaoke. 

North London is so good to Lukas and he’s thankful but there’s a small hole in his heart that no amount of authentic Apfeistrudel and Brezel from the German cafe down Flinder’s Street can fill. He’s homesick but he won’t admit it, not to Per and certainly not to himself. He finds himself accidentally calling some of his Arsenal teammates ‘Basti’ but they brush it off and so does he. Santi just goes along with it, tells everyone that’s his new nickname even though it doesn’t catch on, and Jack just looks at Lukas like he’s lost the plot, but then again, Jack looks at everyone like that.   
The World Cup isn’t discussed much in the locker room, much to Lukas’ delight. England didn’t do so well so they don’t mention it because it’s a sore spot for Jack and especially Theo, who missed his call up because of injury. The Spaniards hold a quiet arrogance about it but Lukas doesn’t hold it against them, he can’t. He knows he’d be like that too if he had won the World Cup. Besides, they’re too nice for him to get angry at. 

London’s not quite home yet but he can imagine himself spending the rest of his career here.


	2. Twice.

****

 

He’s had a bit of a dry spell since he moved to Arsenal so when he scores his first goal in the red and white, his heart almost jumps out of his mouth. He scores in the 89th minute against Tottenham when Cazorla slides him the perfect pass and he slots it in the back of the net with his trusty left foot. The crowd erupts into a thunderous applause and he can feel his heartbeat in his ears. His goal gets Arsenal the 3 points and he feels so happy, so fucking elated that he wants to pat the crest, kiss it, and pledge his allegiance to the red and white because for the first time in months, he’s honestly _okay_ and that doesn’t seem like much but to him it’s the world twice over. He doesn’t end up patting the crest or kissing it, he knows it’s far too soon for such bold declarations, but he knows that one day he’ll do it. That night, he dreams of scoring the goal again but instead of Cazorla passing him the ball, it’s Bastian. 

 

*** 

 

Lukas hasn’t spoken to Bastian since they last saw each other in Munich and it’s slowly eating away at him because they rarely went days without speaking. Per feeds him offhanded information and doesn’t ask questions when Lukas asks him the same question every week. Per never asks why Lukas doesn’t just ask Bastian all of these questions himself and he’s thankful because he doesn’t want to think about the rift in their friendship. He doesn’t, no, he can’t, explain what happened to his relationship with Bastian to Per because he doesn’t know how to explain it to himself. On days where he prods a lot of information out of Per, he wonders whether Bastian thinks about him as much as he thinks about Bastian. He hopes so. _Prays_ so. He hopes Bastian never thinks about anything as much as Lukas thinks about him. 

 

***

 

Lukas and Per get invited to Neuer’s birthday party in March and Lukas is uncharacteristically nervous. He tries his best to bail out of it, makes up as many excuses as he can, but Per won’t hear a word of it. Per decided they were going so he has no choice but to go. 

The party’s at Manuel’s house so it’s fairly tame because his house is filled with collectors items and sports memorabilia that he’d kill someone for ruining. Lukas recognises most of the people there - they’re mainly just old teammates, a few of Neuer’s relatives and a few people he hasn’t met. There’s a rematch of a Clásico from last season playing so most people are gathered around the TV. Everyone already knows who wins the match, it had been on the cover of every paper in Europe for weeks, but it doesn’t stop Gomez and Neuer from arguing about every foul and penalty given. Lukas mainly talks to Philipp and Jerome and they assure him that there aren’t any hard feelings about him leaving Munich so suddenly. He’s relieved but in all honesty, their opinions aren’t the ones that matter to him right now. Philipp leaves the party shortly after half-time and Jerome wanders off somewhere so Lukas takes a seat on a grey beanbag at the back of the living room. Bastian stumbles into the party slightly drunk and sits next to Lukas at the 57th minute, right when Benzema hammers a goal into the net to make the score 1-1. He drapes his arm over Lukas’ shoulders and brings his face so close to Lukas’ that they can feel each other breathe. 

“Hey stranger.”

The words are slurred and Lukas can smell the Hofbräu on Bastian’s breath. He almost starts to laugh at how predictable his friend is. There are four different types of beer — two great German beers, a Mexican lager and Hofbräu — at Manu’s house and Bastian still chooses the worst one.

“Hey Basti,” he replies, trying to suppress his laughter. 

Bastian doesn’t acknowledge Lukas’ giggles but his eyes light up when his friend speaks. 

“So... I’m Basti again?”

Lukas raises his right eyebrow.

“…Last time we spoke I was Schweinsteiger,” Bastian continues. 

Lukas laughs and shrugs his shoulders.

“You have many names.”

The two men smile and any worries Lukas had about seeing Bastian again dissolve like sugar in water. He feels comfortable and content and he can’t imagine being happier than he is now. He’s been happy since he’s moved to London, but not like this. It's a different kind of happiness that bubbles up within him every time he's with Bastian. They sit in silence until Neuer and Gomez get into another heated argument about a Messi penalty that was given. Gomez storms out of the room and Neuer grabs another beer from the coffee table before slumping back on the couch. He doesn’t make an attempt to go after Gomez and when he catches Lukas looking at him, he gives him a shrug that seems like his way of saying _”This is my party and I’m going to enjoy it no matter what._

“They’re going to kill each other,” Bastian says, leaning closer to Lukas as he laughs. 

Their lips are only a few centimetres apart but Bastian doesn’t seem to notice.

“I heard that,” Neuer yells from the couch.

Lukas looks surprised and Bastian can’t contain his laughter.

“Shut up,” Neuer screams, throwing a pillow at Bastian but Bastian easily dodges it and quickly gets up and stumbles out of the room, dragging Lukas with him. 

The two men quickly scramble from the living room and they find themselves standing side-by-side on Neuer’s balcony. The wind is cold so Lukas tugs his jacket closer to his body and Bastian bounces on his feet. 

“How’s London?”

The question captures Lukas off-guard and he doesn’t quite know what to say. It’s good to him. It’s good for him. But that’s it. He loves it, but he’s not in love with it. He shrugs his shoulders and taps on the balcony ledge with his fingertips. 

“It’s nice.”

“Nice? That’s it?” 

Lukas laughs and nods. 

“Lukas, brezel are nice. Eintopf is nice… Hell, even Hofbräu is nice. Come on Lukas, i’m sure you can do a better job of describing London to me,” Bastian says, poking Lukas in the ribs with his elbow. 

The words strike a nerve because Lukas has never been good with words. He’s never been expressive but everyone knows that and don’t expect him to be. He shrugs his shoulders again and Bastian looks visibly annoyed as he takes a seat on the wooden floor. Lukas just leans forward on the railing. The air is suddenly thick and suffocation and he wishes he’d never left the comfort to the beanbag. 

“What do you want me to say?” he finally blurts out. 

Bastian doesn’t reply.

“London is nice, okay? It’s very nice…. It’s beautiful, historic… picturesque even. But it’s not Munich of Köln. It’s not home.”

Bastian remains silent. Lukas sighs makes his way back to the balcony door but he’s stopped by Bastian’s voice when he’s halfway inside. 

“Why didn’t you call or visit?”

“I don’t know.”

"You never know." 

"I know." 

The two men burst out laughing and the tension starts to dissolve. 

“I’ve missed you, Lukas.”

“I’ve missed you too, Basti.”

Lukas walks back outside and takes a seat beside Bastian. He rests his hand on the ground and traces patterns on the floor with his fingers. Bastian moves his hand and soon their hands are touching. They don’t look at each other as their fingers intertwine and as Bastian rests his head on Lukas’ shoulder and lets out a muffled yawn.

“I love you, Lukas.”

Lukas doesn’t respond but he gives Bastian’s hand a reassuring squeeze. The alcohol catches up with Bastian and he falls asleep a few minutes later. Lukas dozes off not long after and he only wakes up when the sun hits his face the next morning. He looks at the sky and smiles to himself as he thinks about how he could easily wake up like that every morning. He automatically feels guilty because Monika’s waiting for him in Köln with Louis. Monika’s sticking to the plan that they made years ago, and here he is, ruining it. Ruining them and everything they've built together. His heart feels like it’s plummeting from his chest like a plane in free fall. 

"What’s going on?" Bastian asks in a muffled voice.

Lukas doesn’t answer. His mouth moves but nothing comes out. Bastian slowly opens his eyes and sees Lukas staring at him like he's grown a second head. Lukas scrambles off the ground and runs inside, ignoring Bastian’s voice. 

 

Lukas runs away from Munich for the second time.


	3. Face to Face

He works out a routine when he gets back to North London. Yoga, training, exploring London, call Louis, sleep and repeat. Within a few weeks, he's explored every inch of North London and as much as he loves Louis - and vice versa - they’re quickly running out of things to talk about everyday. Lukas can only listen to him talk about cartoons and the girl in his class for so long before his head begins to ache. Bastian tries to call him, too, but he never answers. Some would say it’s the coward’s way out, and Lukas completely agrees, but it’s not going to stop him from avoiding his best friend of over 10 years. He does his best not to think about Bastian because whenever he does, his chest gets tight and he physically feels ill. Bastian's his phantom limb. He talks to Monika occasionally but their conversations always end in arguments or with unspoken words bubbling in Lukas’ throat. 

 

 

***

 

Marriage.

The strain on his marriage was always hidden underneath the surface but it took Lukas moving to North London for him to realise how terrible it was. 'Strangers with a son’ as Wilshere once remarked. Before he moved to North London, his marriage’s failure was was as subtle as a leaking tap, you only noticed it if you paid close attention to it, but now, it was as noticeable as an overflowing bathtub in the middle of the living room. He finds himself constantly looking at the silver ring on his finger and it’s like an anchor weighing him down the bottom of the ocean and he’s running out of air. He can’t drown. He refuses to. Louis is on board the ship so Lukas has three options: stay afloat, learn to swim or navigate to the closest shore. If not for his own sake, then for Louis’.

 

 

***

 

 

"I could really go for herring salad," Per says as he ties his laces after training. 

 

“Or some pancake soup," Lukas adds.

 

Per’s stomach growls and he literally licks his lips. 

 

"What are you German’s moaning about this time?" Alex asks as he walks into the change room with a towel around his waist.

 

"We’re not complaining. We’re talking about good food, something you English don’t understand," Per replies.

 

Lukas lets out a loud laugh and Alex glares at him before taking a seat on the bench. 

 

"Right, what food then? Sausages? Pretzels —"

 

"Haggis?" Jack interrupts.

 

The three men look at Jack like he’s just said he’d rather play for Tottenham and Alex flicks him with his towel. 

 

"Haggis is from Scotland, you muppet,” Alex says, a look of disbelief still on his face. 

 

"Oh, right…” 

 

“Anyway,” Lukas starts “We were talking about German food, y’know, herring salad, pancake soup, red berry pudding.” 

 

“Never heard of any of that,” Jack says with his nose scrunched up. “It sounds a bit odd.”

 

“Odd,” Per repeats.

 

“These are classic German dishes. Delicacies,” Lukas starts. 

 

“I’ll take your word for it,” Alex says. 

 

Lukas and Per exchange glances and Lukas thinks for a minute. 

 

“Okay, cancel your plans for tonight. You’re coming over for dinner at my house tonight and I’m making you a German feast. You’ll be declaring your love for knackwurst by the end of the evening,” he says cooly. 

 

Nobody accept Jack protests, but they easily convince him by promising to mention him to Heidi Klum when they see her next - which is probably never because she’s only ever been to one International match. They agree to meet at Lukas’ house at 7pm sharp.

 

 

***

 

It’s 6:34 and there’s already a knock on the door. Lukas looks at the clock in disbelief as he leaves the kitchen and walks towards the door. The knocking continues.

 

"Jack, if you break my door I swear I’ll -"

 

He’s cut off by a blonde figure standing on his green welcome mat.

 

“You know, nobody’s ever called me Jack before."

 

His head is spinning and he doesn’t know what to say so he just stands there bewildered.

 

“Aren’t you going to invite me in,” Bastian asks, a smile on his lips.

 

“I have guests coming,” is all Lukas can muster, and it sounds so stupid he internally reprimands himself for saying it. 

 

“Great, I love guests,” Bastian says, pushing past Lukas and entering the house. 

 

"Shit,” is all Lukas can think to himself.


	4. Cheque, please?

Lukas closes the door and walks back into his house feeling more like a stranger than he should. Bastian’s hovering over the stove trying to get a whiff of all the spices before dipping his fingers into sauces and giving them a gracious lick before rubbing them on his tracksuit pants. 

“Shit,” Lukas says to himself.

Had this been anyone else, Lukas is sure he would’ve never let them push through him in the doorway. He would’ve stood his ground, been as solid as a glacier, as a fucking iceberg in the middle of the Atlantic. But it’s Bastian and he hasn’t seen or spoken to him in weeks and his resolve is weak. _“I’ll ask him to leave in five minutes,”_ Lukas thinks to himself. He almost laughs because he knows he’s not going to do that. He’s so far gone he’d probably give Bastian a kidney if he asked for it.

“Do you want a drink,” Bastian asks, hands already pushing around the contents of Lukas’ fridge.

“You’re the guest, shouldn’t I be asking you?"

“You should, but I can’t wait forever for you to ask,” Bastian starts before pulling out a yellow gatorade bottle with a loud “Aha!”

“Why are you here?” 

“Like, existentially? As in why am I on earth?”

“You know what I mean.”

Bastian grins.

“You wouldn’t answer my calls so I thought i’d check up on you, make sure you’re still alive and eating your vegetables.”

“You could’ve just watched an Arsenal match to see whether I was alive or not.”

“Yes, but English football bores me and I think this is much more fun.”

“Bastian, you can’t just walk into my house uninvited."

“And you can’t just walk out of my life without warning. We’re supposed to be friends, Lukas.”

“We are.”

Bastian downs half the gatorade in a long gulp. 

“I’m glad to hear it, now, who are we having over?”

Right on cue, the doorbell rings and Lukas glances between Bastian and the door before finally deciding on getting it. 

“All together?” 

“We carpooled… y’know, to save petrol and the environment,” Jack says as he brushes past Lukas and walks in. 

“Environment? More like because Jacky here still hasn’t got his license,” Alex says as he follows Jack in. 

“I’m working on it,” Jack yells from inside the house. 

Per rolls his eyes before giving Bastian a tight hug and following the two men inside.

“Per,” Bastian says as he engulfs his friend in a tight hug before giving Alex and Jack a warm handshake. 

“Bastian, this is Alex and Jack. Alex, Jack, this is Bastian…. You’ve met before.” 

“You’re the guy that crashed into Hart during that friendly at Wembley, yeah,” Alex asks, eyes glazed with scrutiny. 

Per opens his mouth but closes it. 

“It was an accident, and besides, he was way too far away from the goal anyway. He had it coming.”

The corners of Alex’s eyes crinkle as he smiles. It’s no secret he dislikes Joe Hart, even if he is in an England kit. 

“I like him,” Alex says enthusiastically to no one in particular. 

The feeling must be mutual because Bastian drapes an arm over him and they walk over to the lounge, talking passionately about something or other. Per, Jack and Lukas follow behind and the weight Lukas’ been carrying over the past couple of months seems to just dissolve as he takes a seat down.

 

***

 

As it turns out, Alex and Bastian have a lot in common and they won’t stop talking. Bastian talks about Munich and his current injury break and Alex sits there enthralled like Bastian's words are buried treasure and he’s trying to fill his pockets. It gets to a point that Lukas thinks they wouldn’t notice if everyone else left the room. 

“How long are you out for,” Lukas asks before Bastian starts another story. 

For someone who doesn’t speak a lot of English at home, Bastian seems to have mastered the language. 

“Roughly three to six weeks. They’ll do some tests around the three week mark to see if I can start training again.”

“Do you miss it,” Alex asks.

Bastian, who’s sitting between Alex and Per, drapes an arm over Alex again and sighs. Lukas has to stop himself from physically pulling Bastian’s arm back. He doesn’t understand why they’re constantly touching when they’re practically strangers. It’s just completely unnecessary, he thinks to himself as he shoves a mouthful of rice into his mouth and watches on with alert eyes. 

“Of course. It’s tough sitting in the stands while my team’s playing… You feel useless, you know, like you can’t help the team.”

Alex nods as if Bastian’s said something of great weight and importance. 

“So, like, what is this,” Jack asks, fork poking a piece of meat on his plate.

“Knackwurst,” the German trio say in unison. 

“Is it, uh, cooked?” 

“Jack, don’t even look at it, just close your eyes and put it in your mouth,” Alex says, giving his friend a reassuring push. 

Jack nods and starts cutting a piece. The whole room is silent and all eyes are on him.

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” Alex answers as all three of them continue to look at him. 

Jack closes his eyes then puts it in his mouth. He chews for what seems like an eternity then opens his eyes, one eye at a time. 

“So….” Bastian starts.

“What did you think,” Lukas finishes.

Jack smiles.

“S’alright, sort of like the sausages my mum used to buy from this guy’s farm in Kent. Nothing spesh.”

Lukas smiles and playfully kicks Jack from under the table. 

The rest of the night goes off without a hitch. They have apple strudel for dessert and play three rounds of monopoly until Per decides he needs to “get the children home”, much to Alex and Jack’s protests. Lukas feels like he’s so close to the finish line as the night wears off to an end but he hits a hurdle and hits the ground with a solid ‘thud’ when he sees Alex and Bastian exchanging numbers in the doorway. The act, although completely innocent, hurts more than it should and he feels like he’s being pushed further under water and he’s running out of oxygen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I would upload this fic every 1-2 days, but I underestimated my social life so here we are. I'm sorry for the delay but I WILL try my best to upload it on time.
> 
> PS - I welcome feedback and commentary with open arms so please don't hesitate to comment :)


	5. Distance

“Lukas, is Basti a movie or an art gallery kind of guy?"

“Basti?”

“Bastian,” Alex says. 

Lukas raises his eyebrow. 

“Bastian… Schweinsteiger… Y'know, your friend who plays for Bayern Munich and the German national team.”

“…What?”

“Am I speaking Englush here of what,” Alex asks as he playfully pushes Lukas’ shoulders. 

Lukas tenses up and tries his hardest not to move.

“What?”

Alex rolls his eyes and throws his arms in the air.

“Blimey, it’s like I’m speaking a whole other language here. First Jack here couldn’t understand me on the phone and I had to repeat myself to Santi a trillion time—“

“Yes, because you were saying it wrong. It’s gracias _por favor_ not gracias _per favore_. I’m Spanish, not Italian.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You know what I meant anyway.”

“Si, but it’s the principle of the matter.” 

 

Alex rolls his eyes again. 

 

“Anyway,” Alex starts again. “Art gallery or movie?”

"Why?"

“I’m taking him on a tour of London tonight and I’m thinking of taking him to either an art gallery or a movie afterwards, y’know, give him the full British experience." 

“If he wants the full British experience you should take the train to Manchester so he can get robbed by some lads, that’d be quite the experience,” Wojciech adds. 

“Oi! My grandma lives in Manchester and she says the crime rates really gone down. Only two people get mugged a night.” 

“Jack, that doesn’t inspire a lot of confidence,” Per says, giving him a pitying look. 

 

“ANYWAY,” Alex starts, this time standing on one of the benches in the locker room. The room is still steamy from the post-training showers and he holds onto the wall in case he slips. 

 

Lukas’ stomach knots up and he can’t help but grit his teeth. 

 

“So...”

“What?” Lukas snaps at him as he comes back to reality. 

The change in Lukas’ tone causes Alex to get down from the bench and take a few steps away from him. The atmosphere in the room becomes tense and both men suddenly stand up straighter. 

“What’s your problem?”

Lukas runs his hand through his hair and slightly pulls it from the roots. It’s painful but he likes it because it distracts him from the pain in his chest and the knot in his stomach. 

“Nothing.”

“It doesn’t seem like nothing."

“Just drop it," Lukas demands as he tries to walk away.

“Nah, not until you tell me what’s wrong mate,” Alex says as he tries to reach for Lukas’ arm. 

Lukas pulls his arm away from Alex’s grip and the two men just stand there in the middle of the locker room. 

“You know what Lukas, you’re acting like a muppet right now,” Alex says as he steps closer to Lukas.

“Thanks, “mate”,” Lukas responds, standing his ground as Alex inches closer. 

They stand a few centimetres apart staring straight at each other. 

“Maybe we should all just calm dow—“ Per says as he slowly makes his way towards the two men.

“Nah, Per, let them finish,” Jack says, taking a seat on one of the benches and bracing himself for whats coming. Wojciech takes a seat beside him and makes an eating popcorn gesture. 

“Okay, what’s going on,” Per asks. 

“Lukas is being a muppet,” Alex finally replies.

Lukas scoffs. 

“Alex is having a little cry over nothing,” Lukas replies. 

“Nah, mate, you’re the one having a cry over nothing. I asked you a simple question and now you want to rip my head off.”

“Yeah, and I told you to drop it but you didn’t.” 

Alex takes a deep breath and backs off as he nods his head.

“You know what, this is my fault. Per’s the only sensible German in the locker room and I should’ve asked him instead of going to Mr Cologne over here. I’ve learnt my lesson though, don't you worry.”

The room is silent as Alex packs his bag and Lukas stands in the middle of the room as if he was glued to the spot. 

“Enjoy your night,” Lukas calls out with a big, cheshire car grin on his face as Alex leaves the room. 

Alex turns around and glares at Lukas.

“You’re a dick,” he replies before finally leaving the room.

 

***

 

Lukas and Bastian are standing in the kitchen drinking eierpunsch and salted nuts but Lukas can’t shake the feeling inside his chest. He knows Bastian’s right beside him, can see him, and if he reached out he could touch him, but it feels like Bastian’s a million miles away. He absentmindedly taps on the granite counter. 

“Do you mind?” Bastian asks before he downs the rest of his drink and puts his cup in the sink.

“Do you mind?” Lukas replies.

“What are you, an echo,” Bastian asks playfully. 

 

Lukas runs his fingers through his hair and slowly pulls at it. 

 

“You need to stop that before you pull all of your hair out,” Bastian says as he grabs Lukas’ hand and moves it away from his hair. 

“That’s true. If I didn’t have my hair then i’d probably lose my strength.” 

 

Bastian just laughs as he makes his way to the lounge room. 

 

“So… Alex is taking you on a tour of London.” 

“Yeah, I think he should be here in a few minutes.”

“Isn’t that something I’m supposed to do?”

“Yeah, but you’re still new to London as well and he’s lived here all his life. He’s a local.” 

“I’m a local too,” Lukas says defensively. 

The smile on Bastian’s face disappears. 

“What’s wrong, Lukas?”

“I would’ve taken you on a tour if you wanted to go on one,” Lukas says, sounding more like his four-year-old son than the 27-year-old he is. 

“Lukas, you’ve already explored London and I’m just trying to get to know your friends."

“If you didn’t want to spend time with me then why are you staying at my house? I don’t run a fucking hotel.”

The room falls silent and Lukas can feel his heartbeat in his chest. 

“That’s not what I meant."

“What did you mean?” Bastian says as he walks towards him.

They stand a few centimetres apart and Lukas is sure that Bastian can hear his heartbeat. Something stirs in Lukas’ stomach and as if he’s falling, he just leans his head and kisses Bastian. Bastian stands there with wide eyes but doesn’t push Lukas away, instead he brings one of his hands to Lukas’ waist and the other to the back of his neck. Lukas licks into Bastian's mouth and discovers that he not only tastes of eierpunsch and salted nuts, but he tastes of chocolate and mint, probably from the chocolate bar he was eating earlier. Bastian's lips are as smooth as they look and they feel so good on Lukas' slightly chapped ones, but as quickly as he kissed Bastian, he pushes him away. 

“Sorry.”

“What,” Bastian says dreamily, eyelids fluttering like he’s trying to blink away sleep. 

“I’m sorry,” Lukas repeats.

“For?”

“For…” 

“Kissing me,” Bastian supplies. 

“Yeah,” Lukas says as he rubs the back of his neck. 

“You can’t even say it can you?”

“It’s not a big deal.”

The words hurt Bastian like a slap in the face.

“So you go around kissing all your friends?"

“Schweinsteiger…” 

“So I’m Schweinsteiger again?”

“That’s your name.”

“Yeah, but that’s the name strangers call me. We’re not strangers, Lukas, and every time you call me Schweinsteiger I know something’s different between us.” 

“I can’t — I can’t do this right now," Lukas says after a few minutes. 

Something indiscernible flashes on Lukas’ face but it disappears before Bastian can distinguish it. 

“Okay…. I think I’m going to find somewhere else to stay.”

 

Alex comes to pick Bastian up 15 minutes after their argument and he can sense the tension in the atmosphere. He doesn’t say anything to Lukas and he doesn’t ask any questions when Bastian brings his bags with him. Lukas watches them drive off from a window and, for the first time in months, he cries himself to sleep.


	6. Replies

A few weeks ago, Bastian was the one calling him but the tables have turned and it really, _really_ sucks. It's not fun being the cat in the game of cat and mouse. Bastian hasn’t replied to his texts or returned his calls in four days and Lukas’ getting antsy. It’s taking a toll on his football as well because he can’t make an accurate pass at training, and it doesn’t help that Alex refuses to look at him. He gets irrationally angry when he looks at Alex. He imagines Alex’s fingers in Bastian’s hair or Bastian’s pink lips on Alex’s neck and he bites the inside of his cheek so he doesn’t say or do anything he’ll regret. He's beginning to realise that he isn’t in control anymore. He’s being controlled by the currents and he can only hope that they're on his side. 

 

 

***

 

They finish their last training session before their match against Swansea and Lukas lies down on the grass, sinking into the green grass at the training centre. Most of the squad pass him on their way to their way to the change room. Alex scoffs loudly as he passes him with Jack, Wojciech and Arshavin in tow. Per takes a seat beside him. 

 

“Is this seat taken?”

Lukas shrugs. 

Lukas feels like a ticking time bomb and he hopes and prays that Per isn’t the one that sets him off. 

“Great weather we’re having isn’t it, Lukas,” Per asks as he lies down on the grass beside him. 

Lukas tries to laugh but a gritty, forced noise comes from his mouth instead.

“You can get straight to the point, Per.” 

“I’ve always liked how direct you are, Lukas. With people like Jack and Wojciech it’s sometimes hard to —”

“Per," Lukas says sternly. 

Per rubs the back of his neck with his hand. 

“Bastian was wondering if he could come and pick up the rest of his stuff today."

Lukas’ heartbeat races at the mention of Bastian’s name and he’s suddenly too aware of his surroundings.

“He could’ve asked me himself.”

“He could’ve, but he asked me to ask you instead. So?”

“He can,” Lukas says, pushing himself off the grass. “Pick the rest of his stuff up, that is.”

“Okay. Um, what time should I tell him to come over?”

“Any time he wants. I’m going straight home after training anyway.”

Per pushes himself off the ground and Lukas pulls him up. They stand in silence as they brush the grass off the back their shorts.

“Lukas, I’m not asking you to tell me what happened between the two of you, I actually don’t want you to know, but I want you to fix this because Bastian’s been moping around my house for days."

“Why should I fix things?”

Per gives Lukas a pitying look, the look he normally reserves for Jack or Kieran when they're being incredibly daft about something. Lukas feels strange having that look directed at him. 

“Because you’re miserable, too," Per says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. 

 

***

 

Seven comes and passes without any sign of Bastian. 

_Hi, r u still coming over to pick up the rest of ur things?”_

_**Sorry!!! I’m at the London gallery with Chambo and I lost track of time.** _

_Lukas didn’t expect a reply, but now that he has one he realises he’d rather have silence. He wants to punch Alex, wants to shove him against the wall and bruise him. He wants to make Alex look as bad as he feels._

__OK. wHen do u want to pick them up?_ _

_**Give them to Per instead. It’s like three jackets and a coat anyway.** _

_Lukas' fingers hover over the keyboard for three minutes._

__Ok. goodnight._ ”_

_Bastian doesn’t reply._


	7. Floating.

The hardest thing about loss, Lukas finds, is dealing with it. He dealt with the World Cup loss by running away to a new country and to a new team. He can’t do that here. He’s backed himself into a corner and he doesn’t know how to get out. 

 

-

 

Days pass and Lukas doesn’t hear from Bastian and Per says nothing about the other night or about Bastian altogether. It’s only the night after the Swansea match that Bastian shows up on Lukas’ doorstep, eyes red and hair slightly dishevelled. He hurls himself inside as soon as Lukas opens the door. The gesture reminds Lukas of the first time Bastian showed up on his doorstep. 

 

“What the fu—“

“Listen,” 

“Bastian, are you —“ 

“Lukas, I really need you to listen because if I don’t say this now, I’ll lose my nerve and i’ll probably never say it so,” Bastian says, taking a deep breath. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Lukas replies easily.

“No, no, I mean I _love_ you.”

 

Lukas looks at Bastian like he’s drunk or delusional.

 

“Are you drunk?”

“Who cares?”

“I care because I can’t have this conversation with you when you’re drunk. I don’t want you to say something you'll regret.”

“I do mean it,” Bastian says, hands rubbing over his face. “I'm not drunk... Lukas, don’t you get it? Drunk or sober, it’s always you. It’s always been you.”

Lukas swallows a lump in his throat and he feels so light, like his soul is floating, like he’s ascending, and he can’t wipe the wide cheshire cat grin on his face.

“Feel free to say something,” Bastian says, voice quiet and child-like. 

“Come here,” is all Lukas can say as he walks towards him. 

 

This time when they kiss there’s no uncertainty. Lukas kisses Bastian with purpose, with meaning and force behind the action. He kisses him like he’s drinking him in and Bastian lets him, opens up for him when his tongue grazes over his teeth. Lukas opens his eyes and takes Bastian’s pink swollen lips and dishevelled appearance all in and he bites his lip because Bastian’s never looked better. 

 

“Per was right,” Bastian says as he tries to catch his breath.

“About?”

“He told me to give you time because you had to figure things out.”

Lukas smiles to himself because of course Per knew what was going on, and of course Per was right. Per knows him better than he knows himself sometimes. Bastian connects their lips together again as he walks backward in the living room, before tripping over the couch and falling backwards on it, bringing Lukas down with him. Once Lukas starts laughing he can’t stop. He’s so giddy his brain seems like it's forgotten how to stop laughing. He laughs until his throat hurts and his lungs threaten not to refuse air entry. 

 

“Thanks,” he finally chokes out, voice hoarse but sincere. 

“For?”

“For waiting.”

“I’d wait a thousand years,” Bastian says over dramatically as he moves himself so he’s no longer underneath Lukas. 

Lukas just rolls his eyes.

“I’m serious,” Bastian says before he has a change of mind. “Okay, maybe not a thousand years but a few months at least.”

“A few months? How romantic.”

“What can I say, they don’t call me the German Ryan Gosling for nothing.”

“Nobody calls you that,” Lukas says dryly, a smile tugging at his lips.

Bastian rolls his eyes and flops down on the couch with a loud _PLOP!_

“Well maybe they don’t say it in front of you but they definitely call me that,” Bastian says matter-of-factly. 

“Yeah,” Lukas says noncommittally as he connects their lips together again. 

 

Bastian opens his mouth straight away and tugs only breaks their lips apart to pull his shirt over his head. Lukas follows, throwing his shirt somewhere on floor.

“Bedroom,” Bastian says in between kisses and Lukas just grunts in response. 

 

— 

The first time they have sex is not what Lukas expects. He knows what to expect because he watched a few videos when he was younger and still figuring himself out — not that he’s figured himself out already. It’s not unpleasant but it’s just _different_. Drastically different from what he’s used to, but he _likes _it, and can imagine getting used to it. Bastian pounces on him as soon as they enter the bedroom. Lukas, being the inexperienced one of the two, watches wide eyed and very hard as Bastian slicks his fingers with lube and opens himself up. When he pushes into Bastian and Bastian pushes back against him, he thinks he’s going to come then and there. Bastian’s so tight, compliant and has the dirtiest mouth Lukas’ ever heard. He moans with it, begs Lukas for more and gives almost as good as he’s getting. Lukas finally comes when he catches sight of Bastian working himself off on the mirror.__

__—_ _

__

__They wake up the next morning spooning with their legs tangled and heads leaning against each other. Lukas’ dazed. Last night seems like a vivid dream and he can’t hide the flush of red in his cheeks when he looks at Bastian and remembers last night._ _

__“Go to sleep,” Bastian mumbles as he covers his face with a pillow._ _

__Lukas' lips twitch into a smile._ _

__“Good morning to you, too,” Lukas replies as he practically jumps out of bed and walks over to his closet. “Can’t anyway, some of us aren’t injured so some of us have to go to training.”_ _

__“It’s like 7am,” Bastian groans._ _

__“Early to rise gets the worm,” Lukas says in a loud sing-song voice._ _

__Bastian lifts the pillow from his face and glares at Lukas._ _

__“It’s ‘ _early bird gets the worm,_ ” he says bluntly. _ _

__Lukas shrugs and skips to bed until he’s hovering over Bastian._ _

__“Do you want to go for round two,” Bastian asks as he pulls on the hem of Lukas’ shirt._ _

__Lukas considers it for a moment but shakes his head with a dramatic sigh._ _

__“I’d love to,” Lukas takes a sharp breath when Bastian’s fingers rest on his upper thigh. “But I have to go… if i’m not at training in 20 minutes then Bould’s going to kill me.”_ _

__“Okay,” Bastian says with a dramatic sigh._ _

__“But this isn’t over,” Lukas says quickly, before planting a chaste kiss on Bastian’s lips and heading towards the door._ _

__“I hope not,” Bastian calls out, although it’s more to himself than to Lukas._ _

__

__—_ _

__

__Lukas shines at training. His face practically beams and the rest of the team seem to revolve around him like he’s the sun._ _

__“Good night?” Per asks at the end of training._ _

__It’s more of a statement than a question and Lukas can’t hide the blush that creeps into his cheeks._ _

__“I guess you could say that. Thanks Per."_ _

__Per raises his eyebrow._ _

__“For… always knowing what to do," Lukas continues._ _

__Per smiles to himself and drifts off towards Arteta and Vermaelen as Alex makes his way towards them. Lukas meets him half way._ _

__“I’m sorry,” they both say in unison._ _

__“You? What for? I’m the muppet," Alex says._ _

__“No, you’re not. I’m a dick."_ _

__Lukas’ reply puts Alex at ease._ _

__“I didn’t know that you and Bastian were… I should’ve asked."_ _

__“We weren’t, and I shouldn’t have lost it at you,” Lukas says he struggles to string his sentence together._ _

__“I didn’t ask because I wasn’t interested,” Alex says. "In him, I mean. I wasn't interested in him."_ _

__“You weren’t?”_ _

__“No, no, no. I thought he was a cool guy and we have a lot in common so I just wanted to hangout… and there’s this really hot German chick who works at Bar-51 that’s a massive fan of his… I wanted him to meet her so he could put in a good word for me. That’s where we were when he was meant to pick up his stuff the other night.”_ _

__Lukas' shoulders deflate and he lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding._ _

__“So, are we good?”_ _

__“Yeah, we’re good.”_ _

__“Should we like, kiss and make up or something,” Alex asks playfully._ _

__“Shut up,” Lukas says before putting Alex in a headlock and dragging him back towards the change room._ _

__Lukas catches a glimpse of Per smiling at him when they’re walking and he can’t help but smile back._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took longer than like 2 days to upload, I was super busy and the original chapter I wrote was literal garbage (lol i'm so sorry if you read the original that i posted on tumblr). This is still garbage but... nicer garbage? hahaha

**Author's Note:**

> This is the very first fic I've ever written (lmao, that explains why it's not that great). I originally uploaded it on tumblr but I decided to delete that tumblr and I didn't want to delete this fic so, yeah, here it is. I'll upload a new chapter at least often (I'm in the process of reviewing the parts i've written and rewriting some (most) of them because they're terrible lol). 
> 
> *I haven't forgotten about 'Hands' but I've just been busy and since this is finished, I decided to upload this to keep you entertained while I work on hands.


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